


Drunk Agent

by AU_Writer



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Drunk Zeb, drinking competition, drunk Kallus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 00:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12243405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AU_Writer/pseuds/AU_Writer
Summary: Kallus and Zeb have a drinking competition after the events of season 3.





	Drunk Agent

     They had escaped…survived… He had his doubts that they would make it, but when Thrawn went for a ground assault…that’s when Kallus knew that the rebels would win. What Kallus hadn’t expected was for a chance for him to escape. He had expected to be taken to Coruscant for his “fair” trial and to be executed for his treason to the Empire.

     Never in his life did Kallus expect Garazeb Orellios to be right about something, but he was… After the ice-moon incident…every Imperial he met treated him as some failure. As if they were saying to his face, “Oh, you survived the rebels by crash landing on an ice moon and surviving the cold as well as breaking your leg? How quaint. Now suck it up and get a move on buttercup, thanks to you breaking your leg and letting the rebels get away we all have more work to do!” It wasn’t long after that when Kallus started searching for the truth. Once he could properly walk again, he started searching for the answers that Zeb suggested he look for-the reason he waited till his leg recovered was so that he could run or fight if he had to. Kallus didn’t like what he had found… Zeb had been right. Kallus’s precious Empire wasn’t as precious as he thought…in fact, it was a monster…a cold, dark hearted monster of pure evil hiding its true intent behind acts of mock peace-making… The thought made Kallus feel sick…or perhaps it was the trip through hyperspace to rebel command.

     Kallus stood in a corner on the Ghost, tucking his hands in close to his chest as he silently observed everything going on around him. While it could be the dark things the Empire had done, logic told Kallus that it was an old hyperdrive. The Empire always had the newest and the best…a luxury the rebellion obviously couldn’t afford. On a star destroyer, you would never even feel a bump unless it was from a ship at least half the size of yours, but on the Ghost…he could feel the ship shake every once and a while. If the Empire hadn’t frozen his assets, he would buy Captain Syndulla a new hyperdrive as a thank you gift for rescuing him.

     While hiding in his corner, Kallus noted that anyone who looked his way immediately looked away if they thought he saw them. They were suspicious of him, which he understood, but he couldn’t help but wishing they could be a bit more discreet about their distrust. He let out a heavy sigh and debated on finding Hera or Kanan to see if there was anything he could do. It didn’t feel right to Kallus to just stand there doing nothing. In the Empire, he would have been looking over hundreds of files of robberies and other filed reports to determine whether-or-not a rebel cell was on one world or if it was a criminal gang, but he wasn’t in the Empire anymore…

     A few hours later, the surviving rebel ships left hyperspace and started docking with the ships that made up the rebel command. As the survivors of the Ghost disembarked, Kallus chose to stay put. He didn’t want to get in the way, or waste any of the rebellions medical supplies. If he wasn’t bleeding out or in excruciating pain, then he didn’t need anything…except maybe a glass or two of wine…it’d been too long since he’d last had a drink.

     The door from the cockpit whooshed open behind Kallus who turned to see Zeb. The Lasat looked exhausted, which was hardly surprising considering what they had escaped barely two hours ago. Zeb looked up at him, his face questioning. “Shouldn’t you be getting some bacta or pain medication?” The Lasat pressed.

     “I should say the same to you. You were the one on the ground when Thrawn was pummeling the rebellion. I took a mere beating, but you…” Kallus pointed out, “You look even worse than I feel.”

     “Really? Because I don’t think so.” Zeb snarled. Kallus just smirked, a competition over who needed medicine more than the other.

     “I’m not going to the med-bay.” Kallus stated firmly. “A few bumps, bruises, and split lips aren’t critical injuries and therefore do not need to have bacta wasted on them.”

     “Then there’s no need for me to go to the med-bay either.” Zeb pointed out, Kallus shrugged and followed the Lasat to the galley where Kanan, Ezra, Rex, Hera, and their droid had gathered.

     “Kallus?” Ezra questioned. “Shouldn’t you be with the survivors and be getting some medical attention. I mean, Hera rescued you from an escape pod…”

     “I can assure you that I am fine, Bridger. Besides, I have the feeling that not many of them are comfortable with me around.” Kallus explained. “So, let’s get to work!”

     Kanan and Hera exchanged glances, which was slightly weird to watch since Kanan was blind…but then Kallus had seen some rather random stuff as an ISB agent. He should have been used to the crazy stuff by now.

     “Are you sure that you’re up to this?” Hera asked. “We wouldn’t want you to push yourself-”

     Kallus raised his hand to silence her. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need to be babied like Ezra. I survived the Empire, I can take care of myself.” Kallus said solemnly.

     “Hey! I’m right here you know!” Ezra exclaimed. “And I’m not a baby!”

     “Matter of opinion.” Zeb grunted, siding with Kallus.

     “Obviously, you are planning something.” Kallus pointed out. “Otherwise you would be resting or checking in to the med-bay. I suggest that we stop wasting our time with the small-talk and get to work.”

     “Right on it, agent.” Ezra taunted, Zeb snorted in amusement, and Kallus frowned. It was going to take some getting used to living with Ezra…assuming he would be staying with them.

     Kallus chose to ignore Ezra’s comment and turned to Hera. Nothing would get done if they started to bicker. “We’re going to stop on Kaller to talk to some old friends.” Hera explained. “There are some things that need to be discussed with some of the smaller rebel cells.”

     “Because of the importance of the information, and because the cells we’ll be visiting could be a bit sensitive about the information, only Hera and I will be going. When we dock, Ezra, Zeb, Kallus, and Chopper will stay with the Ghost.” Kanan added, handing Kallus a wrist-comm. “Welcome to the team, Specter 7.”

     Kallus accepted the wrist-comm with a nod of gratitude. While he put it on, a not-so-grateful Ezra protested against not getting to go until Hera threatened to have him clean the carbon scoring from the hull of the Ghost. Kallus chuckled to himself, allowing a light smile to spread across his face. It felt like it had been years since he last smiled…the thought made him frown.

     They landed on Kaller and Kanan and Hera went off together in the Phantom II. After they left, Ezra retreated to his room and Kallus found himself sitting outside on a bluff overlooking one of Kaller’s seas. Kallus had no idea where Zeb had gone, and he didn’t suspect that the Lasat would go to the same room as Ezra—for obvious reasons.

     Watching the sunset was something Kallus hadn’t really done since he was a kid. It was peaceful and relaxing, as if the Empire that had hurt so many had never existed. Kallus leaned back against a meiloorun tree and closed his eyes, basking in the last few minutes of warm sunlight, until a shadow covered the sun, blocking the last seconds of warmth. Frowning, Kallus looked up to see Zeb standing over him—at least it wasn’t Ezra.

     “Can I help you?” Kallus asked, pulling himself into a sitting position, a movement he regretted as he realized that the adrenaline from earlier had faded and he was now beginning to feel every sore and/or bruised muscle. He was now regretting declining the bacta earlier…but the rebellion could be using it for more serious injuries. If only the rebellion had alcohol, then he could just drink away the pain.

     “Thought you might like some of this.” Zeb replied, handing Kallus a golden-brown bottle as he settled down next to Kallus.

     “What is it? Whiskey?” Kallus pressed, sniffing the top of the bottle. It smelled sweet. Kallus couldn’t think of how to describe the smell, but when he smelt it he thought of warm honey…he wondered if warm honey and this drink smelled the same. Kallus couldn’t believe the irony of this. Crave alcohol and it magically appears out of thin air? Did this happen frequently in the rebellion? Was this a perk of traveling with Jedi? And more importantly, was he getting drunk off the fumes of this stuff?!

     “Close, Lasat wine. Golden Lasan is the name of it this particular brew. Not too hard to come by even after the fall of Lasan and good for soothing stomach aches or…well, getting drunk so you can forget a tough day.” Zeb explained. Kallus nodded thoughtfully. He’d never tried it, but he remembered using a bottle of this stuff as an accelerant for a fire back on that day when he led the attack on Lasan. He kind of felt bad about wasting it on a fire now… While the wine might not be hard to come by now, who was to say it would stay that way? With most of the Lasats gone, there likely wasn’t anyone making it anymore—a kind of depressing thought for the man responsible for the fall of Lasan.

     “How strong is it?” Kallus asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. After everything that had happened today, getting drunk and forgetting everything would be nice—although he was confident that he already knew the answer. Lasats made this stuff so it had to be strong!

     “Strong enough to knock you out with one sip.” Zeb laughed, confirming Kallus’s thoughts as he handed him a cup.

     Kallus took the cup gratefully and filled the cup. “We’ll see about that!” He challenged, chugging the whole cup without hesitation. He still remembered the last time he drank like this…with his guys before the incident on Onderon with the Lasat mercenary, he out-drank all of them. Now if only he could out-drink a Lasat!

     The liquid was room temperature and smooth, and as it made its way down his throat he began to feel warm. It tasted like it looked—sweet, like honey. He felt like it was the kind of drink often drank in a warm mug…too bad they didn’t have that kind of fancy stuff in the rebellion. He probably could have found something like that in the Empire, but the chances of an Imperial actually using except for maybe once a year… The Empire was too strict about keeping its officials sober and the rebellion didn’t have the funds to let their people get drunk…what a shame!

     Zeb poured himself a cup, and chose to drink a bit slower than Kallus. While Zeb drank his first cup, Kallus savored the taste on his tongue and titled his head back. Eyes closed, body relaxed, pain numbed, overall content—Kallus let out a rare sigh of happiness and then went to pour himself a second cup. This wine was good, really good for a relatively common drink. He would have been happy to drink the whole bottle without Zeb, even if he woke up the next morning feeling like his head was about to explode!

     “So, feeling dizzy yet?” Zeb teased. Kallus glared at the Lasat but held a lopsided grin on his face. How could he mad at anything right now? Or anyone? Heck, not even Bridger could ruin his mood right now!

     “Nah,” Kallus slurred, clearly lying as he reached to pour himself a third cup, “I feel fine! Great even!” Before he could grab the bottle, Zeb slapped him across the cheek. Kallus didn’t even feel the sting, but he did feel a slight bit of anger for the Lasat keeping him from another cup…and for hitting him, but mostly angry about the wine. “What was that about?” Kallus snapped. He was one of the good guys now, right? There was no reason for Zeb to hit him anymore!

     “There was a bug the size of your eye on your cheek.” Zeb replied seriously. They locked eyes for a moment and then a second later burst into a completely random bout of laughter.

     “I can’t believe you hit me!” Kallus exclaimed, aiming to slap Zeb’s shoulder but missing and falling forward. “For a bug!” He continued to laugh even harder due to his missed hit, Zeb did too.

     As Kallus regained what remained of his composure, Zeb finished a second and third cup. Not wanting to be behind a cup, Kallus immediately poured himself a third cup and tried to wolf it down as Zeb started on his fourth cup.

     “Struggling are you?” Zeb snickered when he noticed Kallus forcing himself to down more of the liquid at a faster pace.

     “Shut up!” Kallus hissed, although his words carried no threat. They were just two friends enjoying a drink together…and mocking each other too. “Darn Lasat.” Kallus whispered under his breath.

     “Stuck-up agent!” Zeb fired back.

     “Seriously?” Kallus gave Zeb a questioning look, but the Lasat didn’t seem to notice.

     “Would you rather be called-” Zeb started, but Kallus cut him off.

     “Yeah, yeah. I get it! I’m a stuck-up, over-confident ISB agent. No need to give any details.” Kallus said, his words beginning to merge together. He blamed the alcohol, not that he thought it was a completely bad thing.

     “And I’m an Lasat with anger issues. Point is?” Zeb spat back, sounded like he was finally getting a little drunk too.

     Kallus shrugged, just glad that he’d managed to finish his third cup…although Zeb was already on his fifth. Kallus had pretty much given up trying to keep up with the Lasat, he was clearly outmatched. He leaned back against the meiloorun tree and closed his eyes, beginning to lose consciousness as Zeb finished off the bottle of wine.

     “We should probably go inside…” Zeb suggested. “Falling asleep outside while drunk next to a cliff doesn’t sound like a great idea.”

     Kallus mumbled an inaudible response, hoping that Zeb heard him when he said that it wasn’t a bright idea to get drunk next to the cliff in the first place…then again, he hadn’t said anything when Zeb brought the stuff…

     “Can you even stand?” Zeb asked. Kallus half-opened his eyes to see Zeb offering him a hand up. Kallus refused the hand and attempted to stand on his own, but found himself just falling back against the tree. “I’ll take that as a no.” Zeb answered himself. He grabbed Kallus around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder. Kallus couldn’t stop the thought of him being a wounded soldier losing consciousness as he was carried off the battlefield…this wasn’t anywhere near as honorable as that though. This was Zeb saving them both from looking like fools for getting drunk by the cliff.

     Zeb stumbled quite a bit on his way to the Ghost, every bump caused Kallus’s head to spin even more. Kallus couldn’t tell what half the words were that were coming out of his mouth, but he hoped his included something about the Lasat walking like he’d just learned how. The trip to the Ghost felt like it took hours to Kallus, even though it was only a short distance away.

     When Zeb finally managed to get them to the Ghost, Kallus noted it as a bittersweet victory. Although they were now on flat ground, Zeb was now running him into the walls of the Ghost. It was almost worse than the stumbling outside, almost.

     All of Zeb’s stumbling and bumping Kallus into things, brought Ezra out of his room. “What happened to you two?” Ezra asked, his voice wavering between amusement and concern. He couldn’t tell right off the bat whether they were hurt or just did something stupid.

     “Kallus had too much to drink.” Zeb half explained and half laughed. “Help me get him to his bed.” Ezra grunted under the weight of Kallus when Zeb practically dumped Kallus onto him. Nevertheless, he still managed to help the seriously drunken agent to the room that was once Sabine’s.

     Kallus hardly registered any of this except for the movement that kept making his head spin even more than it should have been. He couldn’t have been happier when they finally managed to get him into his bed and left him in dark silence. In a matter of minutes Kallus was basically unconscious, muttering to himself as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

 

     The next morning, well, closer to afternoon, Kallus found himself waking up with a killer headache. Moaning, he somehow managed to bring himself to a sitting position. He stood, slowly, and made his way for the door, feeling almost blind when the door opened and revealed the much better lit hallway of the Ghost. Despite the throbbing in his head, he managed to make his way to the lounge where everyone else apparently already was.

     “Morning, Agent Kallus.” Ezra greeted cheekily, his tone implying that he knew or was planning something.

     “Keep it to yourself, Bridger.” Kallus ordered, even though he knew he held no such rank of giving orders around here, but his demeanor implied that if Ezra kept talking he would likely get hit.

     “Yes, sir! Alexsandr.” Ezra snickered, “By the way, you talk a lot when your drunk.”

     Kallus facepalmed himself and groaned in disbelief. “Please tell me I didn’t say anything too embarrassing!” Kallus begged, Zeb was the one to answer this time.

     “Don’t know.” He replied. “Chopper hasn’t shared all of the recording he took of your sleep talking yet.”

    Kallus shook his head miserably and threatened the droid, “Share anymore of that with them and I’ll do more than just wipe your memory.”

     “Ah, I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you.” Kanan assured Kallus, although his voice didn’t sound too reassuring. “Chopper might share a few embarrassing things, but I doubt he’ll share anything too personal.”

     “Wonderful!” Kallus said sarcastically. “Just wonderful…”

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this one-shot! The idea for it came from a short conversation between TheSenesX and I on deviantart. You all should get on deviantart, follow, and favorite them...love all their work, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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